The Letter

Chapter 1

I was sitting in my chair in the den, stone-faced, drinking a Red Bull.

The door opened, and my wife walked in. "Hi, honey, I'm home." I didn't hear that often. I always arrive home after Marcy or am out of town, so tonight was a rare exception.

It was early October. The weather changed as Fall moved in, and leaves were about to change. As the nights grew cooler, I started a fire. The room temperature was cozy and warm, unlike the ice-cold blood running through my veins.

I did not answer Marcy's announcement. After reading a letter and looking at the picture I got in the mail today, I just sat there looking forward. It was shocking, to say the least, and news I never thought I would hear, read, or see in all my years.

I heard Marcy coming down the hall, so I folded the letter and picture, stuffing them under my leg so Marcy would not see them. She stopped at the door, saying, "Oh, there you are." She walked in front of the fire, saying, "There is a chill in the air; this feels good."

I didn't look at Marcy or acknowledge her standing in the room. She had no idea if she thought there was a chill in the air now. It would feel like an icy north wind from the tundra had arrived from now on.

"Eric, are you going to say something, honey?" She asked.

I sat completely still, saying nothing, looking into the flames of the fire.

Marcy raised her voice as she moved closer to me. "Eric, what is going on? Are you OK?"

I gave her nothing, showing no reaction. The icy north wind was arriving, filling the room.

Marcy moved closer, standing directly over me. She leaned down and yelled, "ERIC, look at me!"

I remained in the same stoic position, proud of myself for not flinching or making a move.

Marcy was totally confused. I had never done anything like this before, and was always excited to see Marcy. I would hug and kiss her all the time, but not tonight.

Then Marcy got angry. "Eric, your being an asshole. Look at me, talk to me, or tell me what the matter is?"

Ah, yes, there it was, my invitation. I stood and left the room, leaving the letter and picture on the chair.

As I walked across the kitchen, placing my drink glass in the sink, I heard Marcy scream, "Oh God, No!"

I moved to the door to the garage, taking my coat and keys off the hooks as I left. I opened the garage door and pulled my Mercedes SUV out as Marcy ran into the driveway, yelling, "Please don't leave me. I can explain!"

But there was nothing for her to explain. It was all right there in the letter, and proof was in the picture. You can't explain away visual proof. It is burned into your brain forever.

I made no gesture toward Marcy as I saw her fall to her knees, covering her face with her hands, obviously sobbing. I was feeling a great deal of sadness over all of this. In the last hour, my life had just descended into PURE HELL.

I was still figuring out where I was going, but I knew it needed to be far, far away from Marcy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walked into the house, happy to see my husband, Eric. He had been away for a few days on a business trip, and I missed him. We had just become new empty nesters when we delivered our last daughter to State University six weeks ago.

Eric and I had planned on our new life without the kids around. It had come on slowly, but it was different now that we were just the two of us, with no other distractions.

On the day we delivered Beverly to her dorm and said our goodbyes, a mixture of tears, both sad and happy, welled up on my part, and a little on Eric's part, too. He was more focused on us and what we could do more of together, specifically, having more sex.

I was all for that, too. We had ramped that up over the summer while Bev interned at a company a hundred miles away, living there during the week, giving us all the time we needed to get very familiar with each other.

So tonight, I was horny and primed for a good fucking after Eric's trip. But when I came into the house, there was no welcome like usual. The house was silent. I called out but got no response. I smelled a fire, so I went to the den, where Eric sat solemnly looking into the fire. There was no expression on his face, and he did not attempt to acknowledge that I was in the room.

I yelled at him several times, trying to get a reaction, but I got none. This was very strange. Clearly, something was bothering Eric, but what?

I was pissed and called Eric an "asshole. "That made him move, but not toward me; he stood and walked out of the room. As he walked out, I saw an open envelope lying on the chair seat. I picked it up. There was a letter and a picture inside.

I looked at the picture. At first, it didn't register with me. I looked at the letter and read it.

Eric,

You don't know me and probably wonder why I sent this to you, so let me explain. My name is Samantha Rogers. Until recently, I was married to Lawrence Rogers. Unfortunately, he was tragically killed in an automobile accident two months ago.

I have recovered enough now to go through his private things. I found this picture, along with about a hundred others, all of the same person: your wife, Marcy. The pictures date back at least ten years, and possibly to my college days. In the same box were fifty-four love letters that your wife had written to Larry. Yesterday, I found a key to a personal PO Box, so I emptied it. Three letters from your wife to him were in the mailbox, all sent in the last two months.

I have been in such shock over his death that finding all this showing me that they had an affair for years, it seems. This has relieved some of my grief. It was clear from reading some copies of letters he wrote and those from Marcy that she was his true love, not me.

So, I am sending you this one picture of them fucking. This isn't nice of me, but you deserve to know about them. I apologize for dumping this on you. You should know that your loving wife has had a double life with my dead husband.

Please call me if you would like to know more, view the pictures, or read the letters. I will be glad to share them with you.

So Sorry,

Samantha -- 320-515-2386

I was stunned, but then I heard the garage door open. I dropped the letter and ran to the garage. Eric was backing out of the driveway as I yelled franticly for him not to leave me so I could explain, and I began to sob as I hit my knees in the driveway.

Eric quickly drove off!

I couldn't stop sobbing, nor did I have the strength to get up off the driveway. I lay there for a while, and then my neighbor Sharon came over and helped me inside.

"Marcy, what is going on? Where is Eric? I saw him come home earlier when he got the mail. Then I saw him drive off, and you were lying in the driveway crying. What the heck is going on?" Sharon asked, confused.

Sharon was my dear friend, but she knew nothing about Larry. No one did. I couldn't explain what had happened, so I handed her the letter.

She finished the letter and looked at me in shock, not knowing what to say.

I was curled up at the end of the sofa, unprepared for questions I couldn't answer. On top of that, I had just read that my lover of twenty-two years was dead. My God, Larry is gone! I wanted to scream!

We sat looking at each other. Sharon was shocked and unsure of what to ask, say, or do.

Finally, she broke the ice. "How long?"

"I think it's twenty-two years," I said softly.

"What... you said twenty-two years? Jesus, that's your whole marriage." She stared at me for a minute then said, "My God, you have had an affair your whole fucking marriage. How could you do that to Eric?" She asked with a tone of sternness.

I began to sob again. I couldn't help it. This was now a reality. My lover was dead, my marriage was probably dead, and my wonderful life was dead. I have ruined everything.

My kids will hate me for destroying our family and for cheating on them their whole lives. The one good thing is that I am sure that they are all Eric's children. I had them all tested years ago.

Sharon sat up and became very serious, asking, "Marcy, how could you do that?"

I was unsure if I was ready to share all the details, but I needed to practice what I would tell Eric if I ever spoke to him again.

OK, here goes,

"I met Larry when I first worked in Houston, the year before Eric and I married. We were work friends, but we had to attend a conference together, and since we were both single, we went out drinking and dancing. One thing led to another, and we ended up in bed that night and every night for the rest of the week. That started it.

Larry was a fantastic lover. He was not better than Eric, but he was different. He was not even as big as Eric. He was just more aggressive and loved to just plain fuck. At first, we didn't love each other, and even today, we don't love each other in the same way I love Eric. There was no passion, just raw animal attraction, but boy, when we were together, it was raw, hot, and very satisfying. We couldn't get enough of each other. It was almost like a switch flipped, and my life went into a different mode, the 'just fuck the hell out of me' mode.

All this time, I have also seen Eric. We made love but didn't fuck. It was very different, filled with passion that satisfied a part of me that I hadn't known existed. I realized I loved Eric only, but I needed them both. As time went along, I found I could go a long time between Larry's incredible fucking. Eric's almost daily lovemaking sustained my sexual needs. I was growing serious about Eric, so Larry and I only got together for an afternoon every few weeks. Then it lessened to once a month or maybe a weekend when we would only get out of bed except to eat and shower. Those were incredible times.

Once Eric and I were married, Larry and I didn't see each other for almost a year. I tried to forget him, but as fate would have it, I attended a meeting in New Orleans a year later and ran into him there. We hadn't planned it or even spoken in months, so I didn't know he would be there.

When I saw him across the room, my body went wild. Just the sight of him made my nipples harden, and my pussy started to ache, leaking into my panties. I was soon completely saturated, and my thighs were even wet. I was so fucking horny that I knew I had to fuck Larry or go crazy.

I didn't approach Larry and stayed on the other side of the room away from him. At lunch, he came to me while I was waiting in the buffet line. He gently took my arm and pulled me out of the line. We slowly walked out of the room, so no one would suspect anything. Once in the lobby, we quickly walked to the elevator. The door closed, and we were all over each other. Mouths and hands were everywhere.

We made it to his room without stripping each other in the hall. The door closed, and we were naked in seconds. We fell on the bed and fucked for an hour, never stopping. Larry's cock felt so good, driving deep into me. I had missed him so much that I started to cum and didn't stop until he filled my pussy with a huge load of cum. We barely made it back to the meeting, coming in from opposite doors. We were there for two more days and spent time together in bed whenever there were no meetings to attend. I came so many times on that trip that it was like I cashed in all my stored-up orgasm chips.

When we left the meeting, we kissed one last time and made no plans. Several weeks passed, and we started writing letters to each other. I wrote the first letter, and Larry replied. That continued for the next twenty-plus years until about three months ago."

Suddenly, it hit me again. My God, Larry was dead. I burst out crying and fell over on the sofa. Sharon came to me and held me, stroking my hair. "Sharon, my life is ruined. I have lost my lover, and I have destroyed the man I love more than anything!" I sobbed loudly. It took me a good while to calm down, but finally,

I continued...

"Eric and I moved to Atlanta the following year, so Larry and I were way apart and could not see each other. Larry got married, and we took a break for another year. I thought we were done until, out of the blue, Larry called me and wanted to see me. He was going to be in Atlanta for three days. The thought of seeing him again after almost three years left me confused. My body craved him, and he made my pussy wet. Jesus, I was pregnant about five months along. My hormones were raging, and I was fat and looked awful. I didn't want to see him. I thought I was over him, but that animal magnetism was suddenly there again. I struggled with what to do.

I finally gave in and agreed to see him. It just happened that Eric was away for two nights, so we met at his hotel for both nights. As you can imagine, the sex was not as robust as it had been in the past. We were making love, not fucking. But there was no love, there never was, just sexual attraction, so it was just slow fucking. Then, on the second night, I did something I had never done before. I gave Larry my ass for the first time. My fat belly lay on the bed, putting my ass in the air in the perfect position. Larry was pounding my pussy and started to play with my asshole. He pushed a finger deep in my ass, and I came really hard.

I looked back, reached under me, and pulled his cock out of my pussy. I squeezed him and moaned. 'My ass baby, fuck my ass!' I squealed.

Larry pushed two fingers in my ass and reamed me. Then he pushed his cock in there and pounded my ass so hard I was sore for two days. His ass fucking made me cum so hard that my baby was kicking me like crazy at the same time. I couldn't stop cumming over and over and over. From then on, Larry fucked my ass every time we were together. It was incredible every time.

After that trip, we saw each other four to five times a year. We continued like that until three months ago, when I stopped hearing from him. I have written him several letters recently but have received no response.

We agreed years ago that if we did not talk or email, the other person would let it go, and we would stop until we were contacted again, so I thought we were going through one of those periods. That had happened a couple of other times over the years."

I started to cry again as the thought came over me again that Larry was dead. I wiped my eyes and continued...

"I had no idea he was dead. I knew little about his family, and he knew little about mine. It was safer that way. We never discussed our spouses or kids. We were just two people meeting occasionally and fucking each other, no love, no feeling, just for great sex.

Sharon, I know that may be hard to believe, but it is true. I never did anything to distract my attention from my family. I never missed an event, a party, a birthday, an anniversary, a holiday, or any family-related occasion. I love my family and husband more than anything, and I never loved Larry. He was just my fuck buddy, my very long-lasting fuck buddy.

I looked at Sharon. She had a bewildered look on her face. I could tell she could not grasp what I had done or how I could have done it for over twenty years without getting caught. That always surprised me, too.

Sharon shook her head, and massive confusion showed on her face. "That is the most incredible and insane story I have ever heard. She sighed. "God, Marcy, how in hell are you going to be able to work things out with Eric?"

I looked at Sharon. My eyes told the story. She knew there was no way I could tell Eric this story and have him accept it.

"Neither Larry nor I ever talked about the end or what we would do if we were found out. As I had said before, we agreed that when communication stopped, we stopped, and it would be over. That should have happened when Larry died, but he had saved my letters and the pictures he wanted of us. I never wanted any pictures. I wanted it to be a clean separation every time we left each other. I never thought about him until I wrote to him or received his letter. That was always just before we were planning to get together again. It was like a light switch, turned on or off."

Sharon was dumbfounded. "How could you do that? That is a rhetorical question. I know you really don't know how you did it for all those years." She said.

"Sharon, I do think I can answer your question now that I have explained it all to you. You see, I have only ever loved one man... Eric. Not once, when Larry and I were in bed, eating dinner, dancing, or doing anything an average couple in love would do, did I feel the slightest twinge of love for him. I know that sounds strange, but it is true. Larry and I were nothing more than two excellent friends that fucked each other to death whenever we could.

I have loved Eric with every bone and inch of flesh on my body. Every minute since we first met, today and tomorrow, and every day after that, I will love him until the day I die. The same goes for my children and our families.

I feel bad that Larry is dead, but I feel much worse for his wife, children, and family. I never knew their names, have never seen their pictures, and don't even know their home address. All the mail went to a PO Box, there and here. When I had not heard from him for three months, two weeks ago, I closed my PO Box, but Larry never had the chance."

I felt sad again as I thought about Larry's death and the pain we were now inflicting on our families, now that we had been discovered.

"Sharon, from the letter to Eric, his wife is wrong about Larry. I know he loved her and his family just kike I do. He told me the one occasion when he mentioned his wife. I never mentioned Eric or the kids to Larry. When we were together, it was just us, and no one else was there!"

Sharon didn't know what to say. I could see the confusion running through her head. Then she looked at me with a severe look on her face and asked, "Marcy, are you prepared to be alone, losing your longtime lover and your lifetime husband all in the same day?"

Sharon's words hit the bullseye of my emotions, confirming the moment's reality. Today was the end of my life with my lover and, most probably, the end of my marriage to the man I love most dearly in the world. I fell over on the sofa sobbing uncontrollably, as hard as I had ever cried in my life.

Sharon moved beside me, trying to comfort me, but even her soft hands and tender words could not relieve me. I was destroyed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I drove south for over an hour and stopped at a Days Inn off I-85 South. I was tired and emotionally distraught. I checked in and went to my room. I dropped my duffle and stripped off my clothes. I turned the shower water on as hot as I could stand it and stood under it until my fingertips started to prune.

I dried off and lay on the bed in the dark. My mind was spinning. I remembered the letter verbatim. I was shocked, and at first, I thought I was being 'pranked.' But I didn't think I knew anyone who would be that cruel. As it turns out, I lived with that someone for years.

After several hours of dark meditation, I fell asleep.

Sunlight shined through a separation in the drapes, laying a bright line across the white sheets. My eyes opened slowly, squinting. I pulled a pillow over my head, and it was dark again. I lay there breathing more rapidly as the real-life nightmare of my whole married life came back to me.

I rolled on my back and heard my phone buzzing on the bedside table. I reached for it and saw I had only three messages. I thought it was odd that Marcy had not burned up my phone. Then I realized that she probably thought it was a useless effort to try to talk to me. I was unsure whether she was right or wrong.

One message was from Sharon, our neighbor. One was from Marcy's mother, Anna, and the last one from Marcy. This might be a message saying goodbye.

I was not ready to talk to anyone, really, and especially not my family. I opened the text from Sharon.